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Soulvessel
Chapter 21 – Soothing Light, Burning Light

Chapter 21 – Soothing Light, Burning Light

A face filled his vision, a pale, inhuman face with bright purple eyes that had snake-like pupils.

“Good girl,” The owner of the face spoke. “It will protect you, keep you safe from those who would wish you harm.” His pale, blueish lips curled up with a genuine smile. “I’ll be back soon, alright?”

“I’ll be back soon, alright?” The man’s voice sounded once more, with a much darker tone. He was standing upright now, no longer smiling. A pair of fine horns decorated his head, curling backwards like the antlers of an antelope.

His eyes glowed a dark purple as he turned to look far away. “Don’t worry.”

“I do worry,” A woman’s voice filled his mind. “I don’t trust them, Father. I simply don’t.”

The man turned around, his silver hair that resembled a waterfall of moonlight freely moving with the wind. “I promise, I’ll be back.” He walked off, but a whisper reached Ash’s ears. “One way or another, I’ll come back home.”

An elegant, yet pale grey hand suddenly moved towards his vision, covering it wholly.

His eyes shot wide open to a simple, white ceiling. His heart skipped a beat as he thought he recognised it.

“He’s awake!” Someone shouted, startling him. He turned his gaze to the side, to see two people standing next to the bed he was laying on. Maya’s eyes were glimmering with emotion as she shouted, she then quickly breathed in. “How are you feeling?! Are you ok? Can you understand me?” She bombarded him with questions as the man behind her shook his head with a sigh.

“I’m ok…” Ash muttered. His voice was coarse, and his throat was as dry as the desert sands. “Water?” He asked before even trying to answer any of her other questions.

The man standing behind her stepped forward. Ash narrowed his eyes as he recognised him. The Inquisitor who came to their rescue, Maya’s father. He gladly took the glass of water he handed over and drank it all before placing it on the bedside table to his right.

“Oh…” He noticed his right hand, wrapped in a black cloth. Where was his glove? Then the background caught his attention. He was in a large room, laying on a bed with white bedsheets. There was very little furniture around, and he could see a thin layer of mana covering the walls. “Where am I?” he asked as he sat upright, causing Maya some distress.

“Hospital.” The Inquisitor said with a somewhat flat tone. His hawk like gaze lingered on Ash while Maya nodded. “Dad brought you here. Are you sure you’re feeling ok?”

Ash nodded again. “I’m fine.” He hesitated. His memory was somewhat foggy, but he did remember the Inquisitor coming to their rescue along with that woman named Kira. He also remembered fighting for the pendant with that woman – the Apostle. “I think you saved our lives,” He turned his gaze to the Inquisitor. “Thank you-“

“No need for thanks.” The man cut him off. “Maya, will you please go to the nurses now?” He brushed her hair back, revealing some blood on her forehead. “He’s fine, as you can see.”

Maya’s shoulders dropped, but she nodded. “Yeah, ok, fine.” She rolled her eyes at her father. “I’ll come back with Fionna and the others soon.” She said, looking at Ash, then hurried outside. As she opened the only door to the room the thin layer of golden mana stretched oddly. She passed through it, probably without even noticing it.

The Inquisitor waited until the door closed to speak up once more. “You’re extremely lucky to be alive.” He stated. “The Apostle is a powerful mage, more powerful than most others you will meet.”

“What happened to her?” Ash asked, as he remembered her almost inhuman screams towards the end of their struggle. “I remember pressing the pendant against her…” he scowled. “Dark mana was clinging to her face and all, and her mana had also begun changing colour.”

The Inquisitor raised his eyebrows. “She escaped, Kira was unable to keep up with her.” His dark green eyes narrowed. “You can see mana colours, am I right?” Upon Ash’s nod, he let out a tired sigh. “Then what were you thinking actually holding that pendant?!”

Ash clenched his right hand. “I thought it would be better if it touched my hand instead of my face.” He shuddered as the still too fresh memory of the Apostle’s distorted voice rang in his head. “Considering how much pain she seemed to be in, I think I was right.” He concluded, then shot a glance at the Inquisitor.

“What you should have done was throw the pendant immediately and try and run away from her.” He gestured at his hand. “You’re not out of the woods yet, young man – you were in contact with dark mana for quite a few moments. That’s usually enough to contaminate a person’s mana. Do you know what that means?”

Ash’s heart skipped a beat. Was he accusing him of something? “I know that using dark mana is forbidden, but I didn’t use it.” He quickly replied, clenching his fists. “You saw what happened, sir, I-“

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“I know exactly what happened.” The Inquisitor cut him off. “A purging ritual will be conducted, to make sure you are not contaminated. Soul magic clings to people, it changes them. It distorts their bodies, changes their mana, and casts their minds into madness. It is not a path of magic intended for humans.” He explained with a sharp voice. “You will be fine, I am sure. The purging ritual is not difficult to conduct, nor is it painful unless you have been thoroughly corrupted.”

Ash felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He simply couldn’t feel comfortable – what if he was corrupted? Doubt gnawed at him as he remembered that dream he had. Was that a sign of corruption? Or just his mind messing with him?

Before an awkward silence could even settle, the door to the room creaked open, and two women stepped inside.

Ash nearly gasped as he noticed their auras. One was such a bright gold that nearly blinded him. It shone like the Spire of Kindling, its warmth reaching him even from all the way across the room. The other was a pale red, with some strands of yellow mixed in.

He covered his eyes, drawing some odd glances from all three of them.

“Greetings to the Oracle,” The Inquisitor bowed, placing his right hand on his heart, and his left behind his back. He waited as the women approached.

“Please, there is no need for that, my dear friend.” An angelic voice sounded. It belonged to the woman with the bright, blinding aura. The Inquisitor straightened his back. “I am pleased to see you well.”

“Likewise,” The woman’s aura began to dim as she glanced at Ash. “My apologies, young man. I hadn’t realised I caused you pain.” It didn’t vanish completely, but the brightness was almost gone, and Ash could look at her without his eyes hurting.

She was a short woman, who seemed even shorter when standing next to her extremely tall companion. Her darker skin reminded Ash of those who spent a lot of time out in the light of the Spire, she was clearly not used to standing in the shadow of the High Tower. Her large eyes were a beautiful brown, and her lips were a pale red, creating a contrast with her skin tone.

Her head was shaved, and so were her eyebrows. She wore a simple, white robe and carried with her a gold-inlaid staff. Her lips carried a gentle, caring smile.

The woman next to her was tall, even taller than the Inquisitor. Her waist long platinum hair flowed freely on her back as her rather cold expression only grew colder as she glared at the room. Her gaze then settled on Ash.

“If even just the sight of your mana hurts him, then his soul must already be under the influence of dark mana.” Her voice was sharp as she glared daggers at Ash. He felt blood drain from his face – she was so fast to cast judgement!

“No, I don’t think so,” The Oracle stepped forward. Her eyes glimmered as her golden mana swirled in front of them. Ash drew a sharp breath, prompting the Oracle’s gentle smile to widen. “I think this young man simply has exceptional sight.” She waved her hand, sending a thin, almost invisible wisp of mana towards Ash. He instinctively jerked his head back to avoid it.

The Inquisitor raised his eyebrows, while the other woman scowled. “That’s difficult to believe.” She stated with a voice full of doubt.

The Inquisitor cleared his throat. “Shall we hurry? Surely you are busy.” The Oracle nodded. “What is your name, young man?” She asked, walking up to the side of his bed.

“Ash.” He replied, unable to take his eyes off of the wisps of mana floating around her. They were so thin and dim that even he was having trouble to see them, yet they were such complex creations. The patterns formed within them were more complex than any other spell he’d seen.

“Very well, Ash.” The Oracle said with that same, gentle tone. “Give me your hands.” She took his hands in hers, then gently unwrapped the cloth around his right hand. The other woman drew a sharp breath as the cloth fell on his legs.

The Inquisitor looked away with a pale face. His fists were clenched, barely visible under his cloak. He seemed bothered quite a bit. It wasn’t a surprise though, his scarred hand was certainly not a pleasant sight.

The Oracle simply smiled as she gently caressed the back of his hand. Her touch was soft and left behind wisps of her mana on his skin. “I wish I could heal your scars,” She gently spoke, “As I can see they hurt you. But such old scars… I could not guarantee they would heal properly.”

Uncomfortable, Ash averted his gaze. “I’m used to them, they don’t hurt.” He curtly said. The pity in her voice was almost palpable.

The Oracle said nothing. Instead, she grasped both his hands, then released her mana.

The warmth of her golden mana soothed his skin. It weaved into complex patterns, then sank into his body. His muscles relaxed, and his anxiousness seemingly melted away. He felt his eyelids grow heavy.

“I am sorry,” An unfamiliar voice sounded. There was a young woman with golden hair standing at the foot of a short staircase.

“No, you’re not.” A sharp voice replied, clearly uncomfortable with the language being spoken. “You are scared of my wrath. Of my people’s wrath.” The voice echoed in the hallways, repeating itself over and over again. “You fear because you knew he was the one who brought this peace. You fear because you know you failed!”

The blonde woman visibly flinched. Her face was pale as a sheet of paper, and her hands trembled. Her gaze darted back and forth as she sought the right words to speak.

“Foolish,” The sharp voice continued. “So foolish of you to come here alone. Where are the others? The knight, and the foreigner? Why has the Empire’s royal blood not come to apologise? Why is it the Twilit they send?”

The blonde woman simply looked down.

“Because it doesn’t matter whether you live or die.” The voice concluded. “I see… you came here die, to sate my anger.”

The blonde woman bit her lips.

“No. Leave.” The sharp voice snapped. “This is not how I will conclude things. Leave, and tell the Empire to stay away from our lands, lest they awaken the wrath of my people!”

Ash snapped back to reality. His eyes opened wide to see the soothing golden light around him and the Oracle. Her mana was caressing his body, slowly moving from his head to his feet. The wisps of mana circled around his hands as her the ritual neared its conclusion.

He watched as the wisps of mana while thinking about his dream. He couldn’t help but find it odd, he had never seen that blonde woman before. She had golden hair, just like his, and the owner of that sharp voice had called her Twilit.

A thought surfaced in his mind. Was he perhaps dreaming of his mother?

He flinched as he noticed the wisps of mana slowly sink into the scarred skin on his hand. A somewhat uncomfortable feeling surfaced beneath his scarred skin. The Oracle scowled, then her eyes widened.

Pain struck. Like his hand was pressed against a hot iron. Like flames were creeping under his skin, burning away the flesh and melting his bones.

He screamed.